


Across the Multiverse

by Mai_Blade



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood Gulch Chronicles, Developing Friendships, Drabble Collection, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, Project Freelancer, Reader-Insert, Spanish in italics and square brackets, because almost everyone swears, drabbles written a long time ago, tags will change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 10,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mai_Blade/pseuds/Mai_Blade
Summary: Because one existence just isn't enough for all that happens to you.(Various RvB Characters X Reader, both romantic and non-romantic)





	1. Rocks [Blue Team A1]

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm terrified of posting Reader-insert stories in the RvB section, but since there are other Reader stories, I thought 'why not'.
> 
> This is a collection of drabbles featuring Reader, but not the same Reader. Um... Rating will go up in the late 20's because I wrote some smut, but I'll add a * if you want to skip over that chapter. Wait, I'll just start with a Mature rating because of language and stuff.
> 
> I own nothing, and this is done in fun.
> 
> **Tags will be added/changed as we go along, so be sure to check them frequently.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The mystery of Tucker's rock needs solving. Whether Church is doing you and Caboose a favor is extremely debatable._

You stared at the rock that proclaimed ‘Tucker’s Rock!’ and ‘Private!’. You tilted your head and wondered why Tucker felt the need to lay claim to a rock. Tapping your boot against the owned rock, it felt pretty solid. What would Tucker do with a rock he couldn’t move? Why would he need one?

“Tucker,” you said later, finding said soldier and Church on top of Blue Base. “Why do you have a rock that says it’s yours and that it’s private? I don’t think that’s fair to lay claim to a rock so close to Blue Base. It should be everyone’s rock.”

Church and Tucker turned to stare.

“Yes, we should share,” Caboose said, coming up the ramp and filtering your complaints down to ‘Tucker’s not sharing’. He came to stop near you and stared at the other two Blues. “It is nice to share.”

“Fuck that,” Tucker protested. “I’m not sharing my rock with _you_ , Caboose. The rookie on the other hand…”

“I _am_ the rookie,” Caboose pointed out, confused.

“No, you’re not,” Church clarified. “The new girl is the new rookie. You’re just… Caboose.”

Caboose turned to Church, “Yes?”

“No, Caboose,” Church grumbled. “I’m not calling you, I’m just describing you.”

Caboose repeated, “Sub… scribe? No, thank you, I do not want any magazines. Unless they are about cookies and orange juice, then maybe I will ask my mom if she will fill out the form for me and buy it for me. _Maybe_ ,” he emphasized.

“So,” Tucker drawled, deciding to ignore Caboose to hit on you. “What do you say I show you what I use my rock for?”

You blinked. “No, I do not think that is fair unless you show everyone.”

“Gross,” Church groaned. “I think I have a pretty good idea of what Tucker does out around his rock but I don’t feel any need whatsoever to confirm anything I suspect.”

You turned your attention to Church. “Then what does Tucker do out there?”

Church stared at you, “Seriously?”

You nodded, “Yes, seriously. What does he do out there?”

“No,” Church tried explaining. He could feel a headache coming on. “I don’t mean do you seriously want to know; I mean are you serious when you say you don’t know or can’t guess what Tucker does out at his rock?”

“No, I don’t know,” you answered innocently. You raised a finger, “Also, I still think it should be everyone’s rock.”

Church sighed in resignation. “All right, Caboose, rookie, follow me. I have this book I want to read with you guys…”

* * *

**The best sex education for kids is when Daddy pats Mommy on the fanny when he comes home from work.**

**~William H. Masters**


	2. Seeing Red [Red Team A1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _You have an ulterior motive for staring at your teammates._

For some reason all the Reds were packed into the common room that evening. Sarge, head buried in Red News Monthly, hadn’t yet noticed that all his soldiers were present and thus no one was outside guarding the base. Simmons, commandeering the second armchair unoccupied by Sarge, sat reading a novel he’d read several dozen times by this point. Donut, lying on his stomach on the floor, was giving his self a manicure. Grif, legs rudely taking up the length of the couch, munched on bacon-flavored marshmallows. Lopez, standing far away from everyone, muttered darkly to his self in Spanish.

You, bored out of your mind, just stared at them all.

Your commanding officer, Sarge, looked just how you thought he’d be without his armor. He was very difficult sometimes, as Grif and Simmons could testify, but there were times when he surprised you, or rather, very impressed you. It was rare but it happened.

( _and damn if you didn’t internally swoon when he did something that was stupid, daring and **worked**_ )

_Sarge’s hands are big,_ you mused, staring at them. _I bet they’re rough, with calluses…_

On the subject of hands your eyes drifted down to Donut. The young solider happily observed the progress of his manicure. He too looked like how you thought he might. His skin was pale and smooth, thanks to his diligent skin-care regime, and you couldn’t help but envy him. You glanced down at your own skin and made a mental note to ask him for tips.

_I’m the only girl on Red Team and I’m_ still _not the prettiest one,_ you thought in mild dismay.

A slight snore caught your attention and you turned your eyes to Grif. He had drifted off to sleep. He was somewhat chubby and out of shape, definitely, and also a role model for how to not behave. His body was covered in scars from a surgery where he was given most of Simmons’ human parts.

_Sarge said Grif got most of Simmons’ parts,_ you recalled. You smirked slightly, thoughts drifting into the gutter. _I wonder if he got Simmons’ “part” as well._

Putting a hand over your mouth, you decide you don’t actually want to think too much about that.

( _because **what the hell?**_ )

And speaking of which, Simmons fell under your scrutiny next. He was, as Grif often pointed out, a nerd. Having heard stories from Grif, and despite taking his stories with a grain of salt, you hoped that if Simmons ever did get command of a squadron of his own that you were never under his command.

_What in all hell are ‘girly laps’?_ you asked yourself, recalling Grif telling you that his sister got pissed because Simmons didn’t clarify what those were.

You turned your gaze to Lopez’s corner. He stood there, back turned on everyone in the room. Being a robot, of course he didn’t take off his helmet. Although, the fact that he _is_ a robot eluded you for quite a while until the unintentional clues from the others kicked in, making you glad you hadn’t asked why the brown-armored soldier never took off his helmet. At least, from the stories you’d been told, you weren’t the only one to miss the obvious as Grif hadn’t exactly clued in to Lopez’s true nature in the beginning.

_I never thought I’d regret not taking Spanish class,_ you muttered darkly in your mind. Sighing, you glanced over everyone in the room again.

Everyone, save Lopez, wore regulation fatigues and had their dog-tags around their neck. You too wore regulation fatigues and had your dog-tags around your neck, though you had let your hair grow out since leaving boot camp.

This was Red Team of Blood Gulch Outpost Number One. These guys were your teammates.

_And also the only available dating pool,_ you suddenly realized. Your eyes drifted over them again, more calculating than the last time. _Hmm…_

* * *

**It’s not the men in my life that counts, it’s the life in my men.**

**~Mae West**


	3. For a Moment [Doc A1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Technically, he didn't lie. Technicalities suck._

You scowled mistrustfully. “I don’t like needles. I don’t like injections.”

Doc looked up from the hypo in his hands, the evil instrument he was trying to use on you. He asked, perplexed, “But you got a bunch when you joined, didn’t you?”

“Those were _mandatory,_ ” you complained, still rankled at the memory of being endlessly repeatedly pierced with needles. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say this, but unless you don’t want to get violently sick you don’t have much of a choice here,” Doc said. “I’ve already injected the rest of your team–“

You choked, not reassured by that at all. “And I heard them all scream!” 

“ _Did not_ ,” came a chorus of protesting voices in the hall, followed by more muffled groans. How could you be brave if the men were all groaning like that?

“Come on now,” Doc wheedled gently. “It’s only for a moment and then you don’t have to worry about getting sick and feeling pain for even longer.”

You whimpered as he came closer but you didn’t flee… again. Instead you pursed your lips into a line and turned your head away, eyes shut tightly. You felt Doc’s fingers on your arm and then–

“Son of a– _oww!_ ”

“There, all done,” Doc said brightly, turning away for a moment. He turned back, “See? That wasn’t so… uh…”

“Uhn… uhn…” you sniveled, holding your arm.

Loud banging came from the door, making Doc jump. Sarge’s voice drifted through it threateningly. “If you’ve made the little lady cry you’re a dead man, Doc! I don’t mind the men so much but she’s just a girl!”

Grif protested. “We are _not_ crying.”

You did your best to not let your voice waver, not so much for Doc’s benefit but for your own. “I… I resent that, sir!”

“Sarge is only looking out for you,” Simmons called painfully.

“Kissass,” Grif groaned.

“It still hurts,” you said accusingly, momentarily ignoring your teammates outside the door.

“Well,” Doc said thoughtfully. “The lengths of moments are subjective.”

“…Jerk face,” you muttered darkly, silently promising retribution.

“Sorry,” Doc apologized. “Just doing my job, you know?”

* * *

**Joy and Temperance and Repose  
Slam the door on the doctor's nose.**

**~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**


	4. Longing [Lopez A1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _More than anything you want to know want he's saying. Why is a reason he doesn't fathom._

You burst out of the base. “Good morning, Lopez!”

If Lopez could have then he would have sighed. As it was he spouted in his monotone Spanish. “[ _What is good about it? My father is still crazy. The idiots are still idiots. You are annoying me with your cheeriness and relentless pursuit of my company. What is good about this morning or the rest of the day which is to follow?_ ]”

You laughed. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Lopez grumbled. “[ _You never do, idiot girl, yet you insist on speaking to me when we cannot communicate. Why do you insist on annoying me when the others already torment me sufficiently without your help?_ ]”

You took up post beside him. He turned back to face the canyon with you. You bounced on the balls of your feet for a moment. You turned your head to your robotic companion, “Hey, Lopez?”

“[ _Dear God. What?_ ]”

Your voice grinned in his audio receptors. “I’ve decided. I’m going to learn Spanish. I could be, like, your translator!”

“[ _I doubt that will help. No doubt my father will say that you are wrong and will continue putting words in my mouth. I also doubt your dedication to learning Spanish._ ]”

You clenched your hands. “Yup, I’ve already ordered the books and audio tapes.” Your voice beamed. “I can’t wait until I can understand what you say!”

Lopez, ever jaded, replied, “[ _Do not expect us to be friends even if you do learn Spanish._ ]”

As usual you didn’t understand a word he said. You could laugh or cry about it but it wouldn’t change the fact that you didn’t understand what he was saying. Lopez was stoic and distant and would probably be very unimpressed if you cried.

So you laughed.

* * *

**No one means all he says, and yet very few say all they mean, for words are slippery and thought is viscous.**

**~Henry Brooks Adams**


	5. Picture [Red Team B1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sure, they were idiots, but they had been your idiots. You were allowed to miss them._

Pictures hang on the wall near your bed. Your new roommate walks over to them.

_Hey, this your family?_

Yes, such as it is.

_Is that your pet?_

Uh-huh. Had it for a few years then I joined up.

_What about these guys in red armor? Your old platoon?_

…Yeah.

_What happened? You transfer?_

…Yeah.

_Sorry. Didn’t mean to cross any lines or anything._

Hmm? Oh, no, I was just thinking of them.

_Where were you all posted?_

Blood Gulch Outpost Number One. I was only there for a few months.

_Are they, you know, still alive?_

Three of them are. 

_Which ones?_

The orange one, the red one and the maroon one.

_Sorry about the pink and brown one._

It’s light-ish red. But thanks for the thought.

_Uh-huh. Want to go check out who’s hanging in the rec room?_

Sure. I’ll be there in a minute.

_Cool._

Your new roommate leaves and you go over to the photograph in question. It’s daylight in the canyon, as per usual. Sarge is taking up center stage, Grif and Simmons are bickering in the background. Lopez is standing off to one-side and Donut is vying for a great shot, obviously annoying Sarge. You hadn’t noticed at the time but the Blues are in the distance on the cliffs, spying on your group.

Several people in the photograph aren’t alive anymore.

“Stay well, guys,” you murmur to the survivors, your finger tracing the edge of the picture. “Stay well…”

* * *

**A photograph is usually looked at - seldom looked into.**

**~Ansel Adams**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting to say this, but here it is: I wrote this stuff years ago and it probably shows. As in, back when I last updated this story, Donut was 'dead'.


	6. Memory [Tucker A1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It is as catchy as it is annoying. You had hoped you'd never have to hear it again._

You and three other Blues stood around idly while you kept a lookout for superior officers.

“So, are you guys going to the holiday party?”

“Yeah, might be some edible food or drink there.”

“I swear, all you think about if food and drink.”

“Whatever.”

“Are you going with anyone?”

“Nah, don’t want the responsibility. What about you two?”

“We’ll come together.”

Distracted, your mouth opened in an automatic reaction that wasn’t even yours. 

“Bow-chicka-bow-wow.”

Silence fell on the group as the other three turned to stare at you. Your mind caught up with its slip and your eyes widened in horror. A certain someone had succeeded in tainting your mind.

“Goddamnit! _Tucker!_ ”

* * *

**Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it.**

**~Michel de Montaigne**


	7. Introduction [Maine A1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There could be worse roommates...?_

Due to an uneven number of Agents during the training program, as well as a low number of female Agents, you ended up paired with a male Agent as a roommate. The news surprised you at first but you supposed that you’d have to grow a pair some time. You arrived to the room second and found your roommate already there.

“Hello,” you said nervously when he glanced up. “I’m your roommate, Agent Kentucky.”

He turned his eyes back to the armor part in his hands, apparently ignoring you.

“Um… I guess I’ll take the other bunk and dresser,” you said hesitatingly. He didn’t seem very friendly. Few of the Agents did but this guy was taking it to a whole new level. “I-Is that okay?”

He shrugged in response and you moved further into the room.

After you had put your stuff away you sat on a chair with folded hands. “Uh… like I said I’m Agent Kentucky. I don’t really care for it because you can either shorten it to Kenny or Tuck and I don’t like either of those.” You twisted your hands nervously. “Um… what’s your designation? I didn’t exactly catch it earlier, just the room number.”

He gestured to his dresser and you saw a couple pages of paper on top. You stood up and skimmed them, looking for his codename. You found and turned to him, “Agent Maine?”

He growled shortly in response.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled nervously. “I hope we get along.”

* * *

**I don't like that man. I must get to know him better.**

**~Abraham Lincoln**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named you Kentucky for one single joke and I haven't even gotten around to saying it. orz


	8. Sleep [Caboose A1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Nap time is awesome time._

“It is nap time,” Caboose announced suddenly in the middle of one of Church and Tucker’s bickering over the sniper rifle.

“Yeah, whatever,” Tucker said dismissively.

“Don’t get lost on your way back to base,” Church ordered, eyes directed at Red Base. “I’ll shoot you if I see you headed at Red Base again.”

You tapped your firearm for a moment, thinking. You addressed the soldier in regulation blue, “Hey, Caboose?”

Caboose turned to you. “Yes, nice girl who is normal except Church says there is no such thing so you must be imaginary?”

You blinked your eyes sleepily. “I have nap time too so can I go with you?”

Church and Tucker paused before turning to you as well, their bickering forgotten.

Caboose thought about it. “…Okay, but food-nap time is my time only.”

“All right,” you said agreeably. You turned to Church and Tucker. “Caboose and I are going to go take naps now. I will make sure he does not get lost. You make sure no Reds come and try to kill us.”

“That would be bad,” Caboose agreed. He waved at Church cheerfully. “See you after nap time, Church!”

Church and Tucker watched you and Caboose head back to base. They turned to each other.

Tucker spoke. “Did Caboose just score?”

Church thought about it. “No, I don’t think so. They’re both idiots so it might really just be ‘nap time’.”

“’Cause you know it would suck if he scored and we didn’t,” Tucker pointed out unnecessarily.

“Don’t remind me,” Church grumbled. “I don’t think the Reds would let us live it down either.”

Tucker waved his hand. “Pfft, we should just retort that at least a Blue is getting some, which would be more than they could say for themselves.”

“Hey, yeah,” Church agreed. He turned to Red Base’s general direction and bellowed, “ _Hey Reds! Suck it!_ ”

* * *

**Consciousness: that annoying time between naps.**

**~Author Unknown**


	9. Seeking Solace [Lopez A1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _At least you cared._

"Lopez, the radio is on the fritz, check it out,” Simmons called.

“Lopez, the teleporter isn’t working. Go fix it or something,” Grif complained.

“Lopez, get over here, the Warthog’s makin’ a funny noise,” Sarge ordered.

Those things taken care of Lopez wandered off before someone summoned him again. Every day was like this and he didn’t really have a say in the matter. His wishes could be easily overwritten by a command code after all. Nobody really talked to him about, well, other things.

“Hey, Lopez,” you greeted, noticing the robot coming around the corner. “Are they driving you up the wall again? Must suck,” you commented. “Grif was trying to make me wash dishes so I left. Figured you might be along some time so…” you gestured at your feet where a couple beverages stood. “Let’s play hooky, yeah?”

Lopez unscrewed a bottle of unleaded while you drank beer. You weren’t that different from the other idiots back at base but still...

You were different enough.

* * *

**I felt it shelter to speak to you.**

**~Emily Dickinson**


	10. Lazy [Grif A1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Laziness is contagious._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally titled 'Grass [Grif A1]' over on Luna.

Sarge sent you to look for Grif.

“It’s easy, pumpkin,” he assured you as though you had complained it was too hard. “Think of it as a mini search-and-rescue mission, only, you know, without any rescuing and without any danger. Just don’t get in sight of Blue Base, and if you see any Blues just scream and run back to base. Our base,” Sarge reminded you. “It’s the red one.”

“Yes, sir, I got it,” you deadpanned, stalking off to look for Grif. Sarge had been speaking to you in that condescending way since he was finally forced to realize he was stuck with you. It grated on your nerves like hell.

Sarge called after you. “Radio in if you get lost!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering, “How am I gonna get lost if I stay in sight of Red Base?”

For the next hour you wandered around calling Grif’s name and doing your best to wear it out. 

“Grif? Grif! Gri~f! Grif… Grif! Grif…? _Grif?!_ Grif? Grif! Gri~f! Grif? Grif! Gri~f! Grif? Grif! Gri~f! Grif? _Yipe!_ Grif! **Grif!** Grif? Grif! Grif! Grif? Gri~f! Gri~f! Grif? Grif! Grif! Grif? Grif! Grif! Grif? Grif! Grif! Grif? Grif! _Gri~f!_ Grif? Grif? Grif! Grif? Grif! Grif! **GRIF!** ”

“Shut _up_ already,” a familiar voice complained.

“Girf?” You walked around in a circle before you found Grif lying on the grass in the shade of an outcropping. “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Grif said dismissively. “In fact, I think the whole canyon heard. What was that yelp in the middle?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly. You scowled, “Wait. If you heard me then why didn’t you answer? You could have saved me some trouble!”

“But then I’d be making trouble for myself,” Grif pointed out. He shrugged, “Priorities, rookie.”

You grumbled, “Whatever. Sarge is looking for you.”

“No,” Grif corrected. “Sarge sent you to look for me. Now that you’ve found me you can go and report that.”

“But then I’d have to come back,” you complained.

“Why?”

You snapped. “Because Sarge will probably want me to tell you to get your butt back to base!”

“It’s possible he just wants to know my whereabouts and not actually want me,” Grif said.

You stared.

“I’m still not taking orders from you,” Grif deadpanned when he realized you weren’t leaving.

“They’re not my orders,” you grumbled. “They’re Sarge’s so you’d better get back to base.”

Grif asked, “Did Sarge say _specifically_ that he wanted me back at base?” 

“Well, no,” you faltered. “He just said to go find you and not anything after that.”

“You could go ask,” Grif suggested.

You cast a glance back at Red Base. “But it’s so far…”

“And you’d have to come all the way out here since my radio is dead,” Grif added.

You stood there for a moment before setting your firearm down. “Fuck it, move over. That grass looks comfortable.”

* * *

**Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.**

**~William James**


	11. Fragile [Lopez B2]

Sometimes Lopez would monitor you with his optic sensors. He would process the data received and add it to the long-already huge amount he had collected since your arrival. You were like most of the idiots around him but you treated him in ways that differentiated you from the morons both on his team and the other insignificant team.

You weren’t like him. You were flesh and blood and bones where he was metal and lubricant and wires. You were driven by irrationality, instinct and insanity while he was driven by his programming. You were unbalanced, unstable and ordinary while he was logical and a product of technology. You were everything he wasn’t.

Like everyone else in the canyon, you annoyed him, and yet…

“Hey, Lopez! Come help me, ‘cause these idiots sure aren’t!”

Complaints and protests followed your declaration as Lopez made his was over to the group clustered around you. Once again he filed away the data he collected into your file. However, instead of your name there was a word, a word that summed up both what you were and your relationship, whatever it was, with him. That file, that word, was…

FRAGILE.

* * *

**My fragile heart's been done so wrong. I wondered if I'd ever heal again.**

**~Bruno Mars**


	12. In His Shadow [Maine A2]

Merciless, destructive, unstoppable.

That was your roommate, bound in male human form.

You hadn’t been agents long, either of you, but you knew he was destined to rise to the top. Perhaps not the very tippy top (you’d seen Agent Carolina in action too) but somewhere near there. Maine was… incredible. He was practically immortal, getting up after wounds that would kill other men and most certainly you. His nigh indestructibleness would surely catapult him to the near top of agent glory.

You told him as much, and that it was only a matter of time. He growled shortly in response.

You stared at the ceiling of your shared living quarters. “Me, I’ll be lucky if I don’t wash out.” You sighed, scratching the side of your head. “Well, I’ll settle for not being the worst of us all. As long as I don’t rank forty-ninth, I’ll be content.”

Maine made no reply.

You turned your head to stare at your roommate. He’d taken several bullets for you on the last mission, scaring the hell out of you when he went down and shocking you when he got back up to finish the mission alongside you. No, hell, practically literally dragging you behind him! You chewed your bottom lip thoughtfully, your eyes straying elsewhere as guilt and a sense of worthlessness settled over you.

Maine was great. He was going to be greater. He wouldn’t always be there to take a bullet for you if an enemy caught you by surprise, and he shouldn’t have to in the first place. He needed teammates of his own caliber and he’d have them too, someday. You wouldn’t be around to drag him down anymore, and that was for the best. You didn’t want to annoy him, after all. You didn’t want to drag him down, hinder him, or get in his way.

You didn’t want him to save you, only to kill you later himself because you irritate him. Maybe he wouldn’t do that, but he was such an enigma, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking and you could barely tell what he was saying when he growled and the like. He could be the nicest guy under his rough exterior but he could also be the most evil person you’d ever met.

You just didn’t know. But still…

_A hand roughly shoved you forward and you fell, your torso scraping the concrete. Several gunshots ring out and looking behind you seeing Maine fall forward, red on his white armor. In a flash of horror, you realize what he’s done, what you failed to see._

_“Maine!"_

_Quickly, you fire on the men who shot at you and hit Maine instead when he pushed you out of the way. They collapse too and you ready to get on the radio, to call for an evac and a medical team to be on standby. Your words die in your throat when Maine rises slowly, slamming his fist on the cold concrete bridge. His head turns to you and he jerks his head forward. You realize he wants to continue on, and all you can do in response is nod numbly. He leads the way, dripping red but never stopping._

_He was a juggernaut, and you followed in his destructive wake._

You reasoned that he saved you because if he died then the mission might be classified as some kind of failure, if not a complete failure. If his teammate died on him that might reflect badly on him. He did it for himself, was looking out for himself. Yes, that was it. Because no one ever puts him or herself out for you, not Kentucky, or the girl you used to be ( _still were_ ).

Pressing your hands against your face, caught up in self-pity, you don’t notice the holes Maine’s eyes burn into you.

* * *

**Your value is the product of your thoughts. Do not miscalculate your self-worth by multiplying your insecurities.**

**~Dodinsky**


	13. Painful Memories [Washington A1]

“Wash! Wash!”

Washington turned at the sound of his voice and found Agent Louisiana jogging up to him. He nodded in greeting and you beamed behind your gold visor. “I heard you’re getting an AI implant today. That’s awesome!”

Washington frowned slightly behind his visor. “I don’t know about that.”

You clapped your hand on his armored shoulder. “Come on, Wash. You having second thoughts _now?_ ”

Wash knew what you meant. It was kind of late to be getting cold feet now, but he was one of the top six Agents and he’d be getting an AI today, whether he wanted it or not. C.T.’s words echoed in his head, her suspicions the loudest.

_“…It’s a selection process. If you’re not at the top of that board you’re not worth_ anything _to him…”_

He shrugged and continued walking. “I guess you’re right.”

You kept pace beside him. “I suppose the other top agents already have their AI, huh?”

Wash nodded. “Tex got Omega, Carolina got–“

You both paused as F.I.L.S.S.’s voice came on over the ship intercom, “Agent Washington, report to Lab 2-B. Agent Washington, report to Lab 2-B.”

“Well, that’s my call,” Washington said.

“Good luck,” you grinned. “I’m sure it’ll be great!”

F.I.L.S.S.’s voice came back on, “Agent Louisiana to the hanger bay. Agent Louisiana to the hanger bay.”

“And that’s my call,” you echoed. You tossed Washington a friendly two-finger salute. “See you later, Wash!”

* * *

But you don’t. 

You were just another experiment to the Director, an experiment that didn’t come back. And as for himself... he never did fully recover from that day, that day Epsilon went insane and committed suicide in his head. You were as much a victim as he was, though he had the bad luck of surviving his own catastrophe.

Wash had plenty more time to see more of his fellow agents fall under the regime of the Director. Once he had believed that they were the good guys, and maybe they were, but hands and feet are only ever as good as the head that controls them, and the Director…

The Director was someone all surviving agents today wanted dead.

“Are you in, or are you out?”

Wash, in his borrowed blue armor, stared back at the dead woman in front of him, a fellow agent from days gone by. Faces flashed in his minds, friends fallen in the Freelancer Project, yours among them. The Blue and Red Teams and Carolina waited for his answer.

( _his voice is bitter with anger and regret_ )

“Do you even need to ask?”

* * *

**Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath.**

**~Eckhart Tolle**


	14. Jealousy [York A1]

Carolina, York, Wyoming, South Dakota, North Dakota, Washington… They were stronger, better, faster.

You would never be of their caliber, couldn’t hope to be. They were special somehow, each in their own way. Carolina was a badass. York was skilled. Wyoming was cunning. South and her brother North were a team. Washington was perseverant. Each had a special something to them, a trait you didn’t have yourself. Sure, you were selected because you scored higher than others, but there were people who scored, excelled, higher than you.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

You could live with the top agents being more skilled than you. The galaxy was a big place, so of course there were people stronger than you. That was life. You could live with that, accept that, sure. It might suck, but it was relatively easy to live with.

What you couldn’t _stand_ was the suspicion that the man you loved seemed to love a woman who was as badass as he was, if not _more_ , actually.

You just couldn’t stand the thought of York and Carolina _together._

It was mostly gossip and rumors you knew, but they were in the same place together. It was possible. Those agents had heavy respect for each other after all. It wasn’t too far-fetched to believe that maybe they were… _seeing_ each other.

You clawed at your head. NO. Don’t think about it.

It would only serve to eat you from the inside out.

Besides, York barely even know you were alive. It wasn’t worth it to destroy yourself from within over something that might not even be, something that was only conjecture. But the thought that she might be the one who kissed his lips, who touched his body, shared his thoughts and feelings…

It made you seethe with jealousy.

But what was the point? You were never going to talk to him anyway. You just didn’t have the courage.

It would probably be best if you would just… let this stupid crush die out.

* * *

**The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves.**

**~William Penn**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much the only time we see jealous Reader over York/Carolina.
> 
> I ship them because they're tragic and their relationship feeds my appetite for angst. xD


	15. Nightmares [Caboose B1]

A high-pitched wail broke the day-light night over the boxed canyon that was Blood Gulch. Emanating from Blue Base, the scream went unheard in Red Base. In Blue Base itself however, two voices yelled just as you startled out of bed, rolling over the edge to land on the cold floor in a painful splat.

“SHUT UP!”

“CABOOSE! SHUT IT!”

The high-pitched wail lowered into undistinguishable sobs behind a door. After painfully picking yourself up off the floor you sat there, rubbing your arms as Church and Tucker half-yelled commands for silence. Soon the sobbing was near inaudible and you could tell that neither Church nor Tucker was going to investigate Caboose’s latest interruption.

Concerned about the simple man, you stood up, hopping slightly before your feet adjusted to the cold concrete floor. Peering out of your room you confirmed that neither of the senior Blues had even left their rooms. Stepping out into the hall you quietly padded down the hall, coming to a stop before Caboose’s door. A sign proclaimed ‘Church’s best friend!’ and a note under it that said ‘Hell no, you’re not!’

You tapped quietly on the door, calling softly, “Caboose? Are you okay?”

“No,” the familiar voice quavered. “The kitties were covered in spikes and ruled over by babies!”

You stared at the door, deadpan. Okay, _that_ was probably why neither Church nor Tucker dragged themselves out of their comfortable beds to attend to Caboose. You sighed, wondering if you could just turn around and leave and not be consumed by guilt. A sob from behind the door confirmed that no, you couldn’t.

Whispering so as to not disturb his neighbors, you called to the young man again. “Caboose? Can I come in?”

Turning the knob, you found that it was unlocked. Stepping into the dark room you could just make out Caboose sitting on his bed with his knees up, crying into his pillow. Overcome with pity you quietly closed the door behind you and went over to the trembling man.

Shushing quietly, you sat beside him, taking him into your arms. Caboose sobbed again, his arms wrapping around your torso almost painfully tight, burying his head just below your chin. You sat there, gently rocking him until his sobs subsided. Eventually he was down to sniffling quietly, and making you grimace and hope he wasn’t rubbing snot against your shirt. You hated doing laundry.

You looked down at the young man in your arms. “Are you okay now, Caboose?”

He nodded, blinking sleepily. He whimpered and clung to you when you made a move to release him. He didn’t want you to leave. “I don’t want you to go!”

You exhaled and sat back down, trying to explain. “Caboose, I have to go. I need to catch some sleep.”

“Sleep here,” he begged in a plaintive voice, sounding completely pitiful. He nuzzled his head against your chest, “Sleep with me.”

Next door, in his sleep, Tucker muttered, “Bow-chika-bow-wow…”

You groaned softly and rubbed your eyes. Okay, what was the harm? You were tired, damn it. “Fine,” you relented.

Caboose did not release you for a single moment as you both squirmed down into his bed, trying to get comfortable. Instead he cuddled against you contentedly, feeling safer with you than he would if he was alone. He made himself quite comfortable against you, snuggling up to you so that your body enveloped his in comforting warmth.

He knew his nightmares wouldn’t be so bad if you were with him like this, and it gave him peace.

Although in the morning he’d be very confused as to why Church and Tucker would argue about you sleeping in his bed.

* * *

**Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling _safe_ with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.**

**-Dinah Craik, A Life for a Life, 1859**


	16. Crush [North Dakota A1, Washington B1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> North isn't actually in this one. Sorry. ^-^;

Truth be told, you rather liked North Dakota. His devotion to his sister (one-sided though it painfully was, or so it seemed to you) was one of his more endearing characteristics. You sometimes found yourself wishing that you were the focus of his protection and loyalty. Because, as most everyone knew, North would stick by South no matter what, even if it was something bad that she did. It made you tingle with goose bumps to imagine that he would do all those things for you and for your sake.

You giggled behind your visor, quite immersed in your thoughts about North being your knight in shining armor, quite literally. That dark purple armor really suited him. Caught up in your fantasies, you don’t notice when someone comes up from the left.

A voice asked in half-amusement. “What’s so funny?’

Startled, you spun to find yourself facing Agent Washington. You blushed behind your gold visor, waving your hand, “N-Nothing, really, Washington.”

“Call me Wash,” he replied. He flicked his hand, “Most everyone does.”

“Sure thing,” you replied a bit more easily. _Memo to self: do not giggle in the middle of hallways. Or anywhere else, really._

Wash tilted his head slightly, “Where you headed?”

You clapped your hands together, “Oh, that’s right. I was on my way to get something to eat.”

“Great,” Wash said. “So was I. I could use the company.”

You both turned and headed to the cafeteria. You looked at the agent walking beside you. “So, how’s it going in the upper ranks?”

Wash shrugged his shoulder, “Fine, I suppose. No one’s died, so that’s a plus.”

“Always,” you agreed. You paused for a moment. “So, uh, is… North anywhere around, say?”

Wash shook his head. “He’s out with his sister on a mission.”

“Oh,” you murmured.

The two of you managed to get to the end of the hallway before Washington turned his head to you. “You like North, don’t you?”

You blushed and stuttered, “I-I do not!” You stalked ahead. “Geez, you ask one question and suddenly everyone thinks you’re in love with the person you just asked about! Well, I’m not, so there!”

( _not long after that, you stood in a room and slowly banged your helmet against a wall, calling yourself stupid and reminding yourself that you were no longer a grade school kid_ )

Wash watched you disappear down the hallway. “…I didn’t ask if you loved him.”

* * *

**Out of all the people I've ever met, you're the one who makes me draw those silly little hearts on my papers.**

**~Author Unknown**


	17. Cemetery [Blue Team B1]

You stared at the two worrying objects stuck in the ground. This did not bode well, not at _all._

Tucker called from atop the base. “Oi, rookie, what are you doing?”

You turned back to base and fled from the two terrifying objects, calling back in an extremely worried voice. “Why is there a _cemetery_ out here?!”

Tucker replied, unperturbed, “Because we keep dying out here. Well, _two_ of us, anyway…”

You heard Church’s acerbic reply as you ran back to base. “Shut up, Tucker!”

They continued arguing as you fled back into the depths of the base. What kind of monster were you in your previous life that _this place_ was your punishment? Just what kind of messed up karma or terrible luck were you cursed with?

“Hello!”

You screamed and fell backwards.

Caboose stared down at you. “Rookie Lady, are you okay?”

You lowered your head to your knees. “Why is there a cemetery here? Who died, really?”

Because no matter what Tucker seemed to be implying, _clearly_ Church was alive and okay.

“It wasn’t my fault!”

You blinked at the sound of rapid footsteps. Looking up, you saw that you were alone. Caboose’s words slowly sunk into your mind and a sense of dread fell over you.

“What do you mean it wasn’t your fault…?”

* * *

**A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.**

**~Thomas Mann, The Magic Mountain**


	18. Food [Grif A2]

“Want one?”

You stared suspiciously at the proffered bag. “What is it?”

Grif grumbled. “Yes, or no, rookie?”

Your suspicious stare turned into a suspicious glare. “…Yes?”

He dug his hand into the plastic bag and pulled out a marshmallow. You sighed in relief and dug one out for yourself. You raised it to him. “Thanks.”

Grif watched as you bit into the marshmallow. A massive grin spread across his face as you suddenly registered what it was you just put in your mouth. You swallowed.

“Good god!”

Grif started laughing, “Good, huh?”

“ _Bacon-flavored_ marshmallows?!” you cried. “What the hell, man?!”

He shrugged, grinning. “Well, what do you think?”

You paused. “…Actually… they’re not bad.” You stared at the half-eaten marshmallow in your hand. “How do they taste when you roast them?”

It was Grif’s turn to pause. “…I… don’t know. I just eat them as they are. Never occurred to me to make a fire to roast ‘em.”

“Wanna try it out?”

“Where the hell are we gonna get wood in this damn canyon?”

“Simmons got that model ship building kit in the last drop-off, didn’t he?”

“…I like the way you think, rookie.”

* * *

**Vegetables are a must on a diet. I suggest carrot cake, zucchini bread, and pumpkin pie.**

**~Jim Davis**


	19. Magic [Caboose C1]

“CHURCH!!”

“Goddamnit,” muttered said man at the panicked cry from his irritating teammate. He sighed in resignation as Caboose bounded out of the base and headed straight for him.

“ _Church!!_ ”

“Shut up, Caboose,” Church replied dully.

Caboose ran up to him. “You have to call a doctor!”

An image of Doc appeared in Church’s mind, making him recoil. “Oh, _hell no._ ”

“You have to,” Caboose blubbered. “The new girl, the rookie, her thumb broke off her hand!”

“ _What?_ ”

Tucker appeared at the top of the base. “Caboose, knock it off! Her thumb didn’t break off her hand, it was just a trick!”

“Good god,” Church groaned in understanding. He inhaled and bellowed in the direction of the base. “Rookie, stop fucking with Caboose!”

Tucker laughed his signature one-liner as you appeared next to him in your bluish armor. You bellowed back indignantly. 

“I’m not fucking Caboose, goddamnit!”

Church retorted, “I meant his mind!” 

You all paused to stare at him.

He amended, “I mean, you know… you know what I mean, damn it!”

“Hey, I can’t help it if he falls for my tricks, okay?”

“That was a trick?” Caboose repeated, perplexed. He hesitated before saying, “I will pay you one hundred dollars to show me how it works.”

“Done,” you agreed.

Tucker protested. “I could teach you that!”

“But I already asked her,” Caboose said.

“Yeah, he already asked me, so fuck off, Tucker.”

“All of you knock it off,” Church ordered, sounding aggravated. “Or else I’ll find something for you all to do in the base, like cleaning.”

“I’m done,” you said, backing away.

Tucker challenged Church. “What are you, our father?”

You left the two of them to bicker as you and Caboose went off to the other side of the base. “Okay, Caboose, let me teach you the trick.”

“Is it a magic trick?”

“What do you think?”

He paused. “Hmm… well, you broke your thumb off and now it’s fixed, so it must be magic.”

You laughed. “Okay, whatever. Now listen, and watch closely, here’s what you do…”

* * *

**Few people have the imagination for reality.**

**~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe**


	20. Steamrollered [Maine A3]

You were on the practice floor and needed to concentrate but your mind was locked in a horrified loop of ‘ohmygodohmygod’. This was because of who your opponent was today. If it was Carolina, you’d still be going ‘ohmygod’ though not with as much horror. If it was New York or Washington you’d be apprehensive and nervous, same as if it was North or South Dakota. But _this_ …

Having your roommate Maine after you was sending you into a state of useless fear because the guy was big, intimidating and all-around _scary_.

He was stalking you among the columns, paint-gun in hand. If you could hit him with the paint it might be enough to stop him on the practice field since it actives lockdown which hardened the armor, but you weren’t quite that brave to. Sure, there was the possibility that you could get in a few shots and maybe earn a couple points on the score-board, but what about later, back in the room or out in the field? You did not, under any circumstances, want Maine as your–

You screamed, startled, as Maine suddenly appeared and shot you with the paint. He scored direct hits and your armor locked-down.

F.I.L.S.S.’s voice filled the practice area. “Final score, Maine 9, Kentucky 0.”

Maine growled, probably in disgust, and tossed his weapon aside, leaving you frozen as the columns retracted into the floor. Up in the observation deck a few of the other agents were talking.

“Once again Kentucky fails to even _try_ against Maine,” South said, stating the obvious.

North shrugged, “Well, she has been in the field with him, and her point tally isn’t that great, so maybe she feels it’s kind of useless to try.”

“I’m with South on this one,” Carolina stated. “Kentucky can’t just be giving up like that. All agents have duties required of them. Facing a terrible enemy is no reason to shut down when there are mission objectives to achieve.”

“Says the over-achiever,” York said lightly, earning himself a stern visor stare.

Washington paused for a moment before speaking, wondering if he was simply imagining things. “Is it just me, or is Maine a little more merciful when he’s facing Kentucky than when he’s facing one of us?”

“It’s all in your head,” South scoffed. “Maine didn’t waste any time knocking her out in either the weapons practice or hand-to-hand combat, to say nothing of the paint scenario they just finished.”

“True,” Washington agreed, “But he did use the least amount of strikes and shots needed. Well, except for that last one there.”

They watched as the orderlies detached the hardened paint from your armor.

“They’re roommates, aren’t they?” asked North suddenly.

“Not for long at this rate,” Carolina put in, moving towards the door. “Maine’s rising quickly while Kentucky hovers in the bottom ten. With a performance like that I wouldn’t be surprised if she was killed in the field soon.”

South almost snorted as she joined Carolina’s departure, “She might’ve been already if Maine hadn’t taken those shots for her last time they were out.”

“Come on, it’s not that unusual for teammates to take shots for each other,” Washington put in, leaving with the rest.

“He’s got a point,” North said. He’d take a shot for his sister, definitely.

“Kentucky’s not gonna be around long,” South predicted darkly. “There’s no point in talking about her anymore.”

They changed subject and Washington broke off, heading for the locker room. York saw him go and almost shook his head. Washington meant to be nice, but being nice was exactly the problem. Well, hopefully you wouldn’t bite the poor guy’s head off _too_ badly.

* * *

**Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.**

**~Will Rogers**


	21. Reach Out [Washington B1]

It has long been established that Maine is a powerhouse near impossible to stop out in the field. Carolina aside, the others, having witnessed him in the field, could almost pity the enemy facing Maine. Even his roommate didn’t get any mercy from him.

“You lasted ten seconds longer than you usually do,” Washington said, commenting on your practice match against Maine. “That’s an improvement, right?”

You glared at him, holding your helmet in your hands. “Don’t patronize me, Agent Washington.”

He raised his hands, dropping the subject and picking another one. “Why don’t you just call me Wash? You don’t have to say ‘Agent Washington’ every time you talk to me.”

You stood up, shifting your helmet to your hip as you avoided looking at his gold visor. “That’s a little too familiar for someone I hardly know. It’s like a nickname you’d give a friend.”

“Hey, I know we’re all competing here,” he said, referring to all the agents, “But we don’t have to be rivals all the time. The others aren’t that bad. York is cool, and okay, maybe South is a little aggressive but her brother North is all right.”

You just stared at him. “Your point, Agent Washington?”

“Introduce yourself to some of the others,” he suggested. “South thinks you’re stuck-up because you never talk to anyone and avoid making eye contact when helmets come off.”

“I’m not exactly a people-person,” you muttered, thinking about how nervous you get around new people. You stared at the floor, digesting his words. Maybe he had a point though, so… “If you want me to play nice so much, Wash, why don’t you help me practice? Talk to me sometimes, though be warned, I might not always talk back.”

He shifted, apparently thinking about it. He nodded after a moment. “All right then, Kenny. I’ll help you out.”

You grimaced, hoping that wouldn’t be what the others called you. “Wash, please don’t call me Kenny.”

“Why?”

“Just… _don’t._ ”

* * *

**Strangers are just friends waiting to happen.**

**~Rod McKuen, Looking for a Friend**


	22. Longing [North Dakota A2]

You stood at a window and stared out into the depths of space. Pinpricks of light shone against the void, innumerable, yet separated by distances you couldn’t even imagine. The view was beautiful, but cold and kind of… lonely.

“Hey–“

You jumped, spun and raising your arms in defense.

North held up his hands apologetically, “Whoa, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You lowered your arms slightly, “Geez, North, don’t _do_ that.” You put one hand on your hip and the other on your chest, exhaling. “You practically scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I was just gonna ask what you were thinking about. I’ve passed here twice in three hours and you haven’t moved once.”

You chuckled slightly, “Wow, really? I guess I was pretty far away in my thoughts. It didn’t seem that long to me.” You looked over your shoulder while your body still faced him. “I like looking the stars. They’re so pretty.”

North took a place beside you and stared out the window. You half-turned and had a better look outside. You took advantage of your golden visor and stole a covet look at your longtime crush (god, just thinking that makes you feel like a middle school girl instead of the adult you were). Of course, you never told him about how you felt, and doubted that you ever would as you thought that one, he was out of your league, and two, the devotion he had to his sister was somewhat daunting. You smiled regretfully at your cowardice and turned your eyes back to the stars.

After a peaceful moment Theta appeared in a firework pop. ‘You know, it’s not just a nice thing to say that you’re made of star dust. Everything is made from stuff leftover from stars that exploded. Without exploding stars, life wouldn’t be possible.’

“So we’re all star children,” North mused. From his voice you thought he was smiling. “That’s a nice thought.”

Theta nodded. He put his hands behind his back and turned his torso from side to side while speaking hesitatingly. “North, we might be late if we don’t go now.”

“Oh, right,” North replied. He stepped back from the window and gave you a wave. “See you, Virginia.”

You gave a mute wave in return and pretended to look back at the stars while you secretly watched him walk down the hall and out of sight. This pining was pathetic, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to muster the courage of approaching him yourself.

Looking back at the stars, you knew that your longing for North would always be just that—longing, with no chance of reciprocation.

* * *

**Night has become painful for me. It brings to light the regrets of the day.**

**~Grey Livingston**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still miss North. T⌓T


	23. Friends with Benefits [Wyoming A1]

“Hello there.”

You turned around and saw Agent Wyoming through your visor. You waved and, though he couldn’t see, smiled. “Hello, Wyoming. Winding down for the day?”

“Pretty soon,” he replied easily. “Got to drop by the armory, maybe get something for supper.”

“Food’s not bad today,” you said, continuing on down the hall with him. “I have a couple reports to write, so I should be back in my quarters later.”

“I think I’ll just relax tonight,” Wyoming said invitingly.

You smirked under your visor. “Mind some company?”

“Not at all,” he replied genially. He called after you as he turned left in the hall. “My door will be open.”

“I’ll just let myself in, then,” you said, waving goodbye. You continued on your way, grinning. 

Tonight was shaping up to be pretty good indeed.

* * *

**I once knew a woman who offered her honor  
So I honored her offer  
And all night long I was on her and off her.**

**~Author Unknown**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was surprised the first time I saw Wyoming's face. Like, who expected that 'stache? xD


	24. Knock Knock [York B1]

One day on the _Mother of Invention_ , York discovered something truly appalling: Wyoming was _not_ the only agent who told annoying knock knock jokes.

His discovery came quite unintentionally. He was minding his own business, off to get himself some coffee when he crossed an intersection in the many hallways of the ship. From the corner of his eye he saw Agent Arizona at a computer terminal. In the quiet empty hallway her absentminded voice drifted over to him, stopping him in his tracks just as he was out of her immediate sight.

(“Knock, knock,” you murmured to yourself, eyes glued to the terminal before you.)

He nearly groaned out of reflex, conditioned from the many unwanted jokes from his fellow freelancer.

(Answering your own joke and gave the obligatory answer, “Who’s there?”)

He couldn’t be hearing this. Surely this was an audio hallucination brought on by not having that cup of coffee he need.

(Your fingers worked the keyboard as you sorted through the movies on your storage device. “Thumb,” you said, and continued, “Thumb who?”)

And yet, there was no denying that Arizona was telling herself a knock-knock joke.

Leaning backwards and peering around the corner at her, York knew one thing in his heart while she remained oblivious to his gaze.

(“Thumb people like horror movies,” you said wryly. You deleted a file, “I don’t.”)

York heard her chuckle slightly and he straightened his back, quietly continuing on his way as he silently vowed that _hell_ would freeze over before he’d let her and Wyoming meet. He’d be doing everyone a favor, really.

The absolute last thing they needed was for Wyoming to chip at their sanity by having someone encouraging his terrible and seemingly endless repertoire of dreadful jokes.

* * *

**"I must do something" always solves more problems than "Something must be done."**

**~Author Unknown**


	25. Who's There? [Wyoming A2]

“Knock, knock,” Wyoming said by way of greeting. He knew he could count on you to play along with his jokes, even if you didn’t like them.

You stared at him, or rather at his gold visor as he was still wearing his helmet. You folded your arms, “Reggie.”

Wyoming raised an eyebrow behind his visor. You hardly ever called him by his name. He lowered his eyebrow. “Yes, my dear Alabama?”

You frowned behind your own visor. “Level with me, okay?”

“Of course,” he replied, curious as to where this was going.

“When you say these knock-knock jokes…” You leaned forward and looked up at him. Even though he couldn’t see your face Wyoming knew you had a serious expression on your face. You continued solemnly, “There’s no one really there is there?”

Wyoming blinked, digesting that. “…I suppose not, love.”

“Just checking,” you said. You straightened and continued the game as you always did. “Who’s there?”

* * *

**Fear knocked at the door. Faith answered. And lo, no one was there.**

**~Author Unknown**


	26. Cover Up Story [Blue Team C1]

You walked into the common room and proudly held out a large, brightly colored rubber ball. “Look what I got in the last drop!”

Caboose smiled, “Oooo! Does it bounce good?”

Tucker, relaxing on the couch, grinned at you. “Do _you_ bounce good, rookie?”

“Not really,” Caboose replied with his back turned to Tucker while he stared up at you from the floor.

“Ugh.” Tucker grimaced, slightly disturbed that Caboose had replied to his pickup line. “You’re not the rookie anymore, Caboose. _She_ is.”

You bounced the ball once, instantly distracting them and making Caboose smile widely. He held out his hands. “Let me try!”

You paused, suddenly worried. An enclosed space, a highly bouncy ball, and _Caboose_ … that just didn’t seem very smart. But one look at the smile on his face and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You tossed it to him and he caught it.

“Yay!” he cheered. He stood up and pulled his arms close to his body. Suddenly, with a feeling of impending doom, you dropped to the floor with your arms over your head. Tucker, also seeing the danger of what was about to occur, held out his hand and started to call to Caboose, “Hey, don–“

Caboose threw the ball with all his strength. There were several loud bouncing sounds as the ball disappeared from the common room and down the hall. A loud crash and tinkling glass soon followed, indicating that something had gone terribly wrong in the kitchen.

_“What the hell was that?!”_

You and Caboose winced at the sound of Washington’s scream of rage. You turned to Caboose. “Let’s get our story straight: Tucker did it.”

He nodded, “Right.”

Tucker glared at the two of you, “Oh, hell no!” He followed after you and Caboose as you both ignored him. “Hey, come back here you two–!”

* * *

**True friends stab you in the _front._**

**~Oscar Wilde**


	27. His (Sort of) Girlfriend [Wyoming A3]

You walked into the locker room and saw Agents York, North and Washington there. Normally you weren’t very sociable but today you walked right up to them and put your hands on your hips.

“Quick! Make me laugh!”

They stopped talking and turned their heads to stare at you.

“Ha ha,” Washington replied quickly.

You laughed and clapped your hands together. “Thanks!”

They watched as you turned on your heel and left the locker room with a spring in your step. They looked at each other.

North tilted his head at the door. “Who was that?”

York folded his arms, thinking. “I think that was Agent… Alabama.”

Washington nodded, “Yeah, that was.”

North chuckled, “You did a good deed, Wash. You made her laugh.”

York grinned. “You better hope Wyoming doesn’t find out.”

Wash turned to him. “Why?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure, but I think they’ve got something going on,” York explained, still grinning. 

Wash straightened. “Wait, you don’t think Wyoming would think I was making a play for his girlfriend or something, do you? Because you know I’m not, right?”

“Hey, how would I know what goes on in your head?” asked York, having fun with Washington.

“But I’m not,” Wash insisted. “I’m not interested in Wyoming’s girlfriend!”

At that Wyoming walked in and paused. He stared at Washington. “And what do you mean by that, chap?”

York and North laughed while Washington floundered. Really, every time the guy opened his mouth he made things worse.

* * *

**You can always tell a real friend: when you've made a fool of yourself he doesn't feel you've done a permanent job.**

**~Laurence J. Peter**


	28. Laundry Room Incident [Blue Team C2]

Washington hadn’t believed your story about Tucker being the culprit who broke the majority of the dishes in the kitchen and hence responsible for why you all had to eat one at a time from a saucer until the emergency drop when you’d be getting replacement dishes. Well, he might’ve believed you if Caboose wasn’t such a terrible liar. And if he hadn’t seen you get the ball from the last drop… Anyway, your plan fell through and you and Caboose got stuck with laundry duty, which is why you were both in laundry room.

You barked, “Caboose, what the hell are you doing?”

He paused. “Um, opening the detergent?”

“I see that,” you said, “But I also see you lifting it to your mouth. Didn’t your mom ever tell you to not drink that stuff?”

“Yes, but Tucker said it was good to drink.” Caboose lowered the bottle, murmuring as he remembered something. “But Church would always get mad at him and tell me to not drink the laundry detergent…”

You turned back to the washing machine as you threw in more tank tops. “Well it’s not good to drink so don’t drink it.”

“Oops.”

You froze, staring at the wall behind the washer. “You just drank some while I wasn’t looking, didn’t you?”

“Um, no…” Caboose remembered it wasn’t good to lie. “Wait, yes!” He went quiet for a moment, trying to think. “…Which will make you less mad?”

You spun on your heel and grabbed the bottle from him. “Give me that!” You grumbled and poured a capful into the machine. “Do you have any other dirty tank tops to wash?”

Caboose looked down at the one he was wearing. He spotted a drop of liquid detergent. “Yes!”

You heard him shuffle as you spun the cap closed. “All right, bring it–oh, thanks.” You absentmindedly took it from his outstretched hand and tossed it in. Closing the lid of the machine you turned to Caboose. “We’ll come back lat _heeer_ …”

Caboose blinked at your squeaky voice. He leaned closer in concern. “Are you okay, lady rookie?”

Your mouth moved but no sound came out of it. Your eyes were currently glued to Caboose’s golden, ripped torso. Tucker had said Caboose was strong and so you had assumed he had muscles but you still weren’t ready to see him in his glory. You mentally bitch-slapped yourself and firmly reminded yourself that this was Caboose. No matter how hot he was below the neck he was still an empty-headed idiot who was prone to team-killing and— _holy shit he moved._

Caboose had reached out towards you, concerned that you seemed frozen. You jerked back violently, bumping into the washer. “ _Later!_ I’ll come check on the laundry later!”

Caboose smiled. “I’ll come with you.”

You shook your hands and head quickly. “No, no, no, no! I can do it myself, no problem!” You laughed nervously and backed out of the room. “Okay, see you later!”

“Lady rookie, wait!” Caboose stared after you, confused. Why would you run away like that?

* * *

_Seven seconds earlier, on top of the base…_

“Bow chicka bow wow.”

Washington looked at Tucker. “What?”

Tucker looked back. “I don’t know. It just felt like the right time to say it.”

“Right…”

* * *

**Lust is easy. Love is hard. Like is most important.**

**~Carl Reiner**


End file.
